


Second Date Nerves

by garyunwinhart



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, also;, don't forget the fluff, in case you hadn't realised Harry doesn't die, in which Merlin is bossy af and no-one really cares, we'll work out the details later shh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4806641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garyunwinhart/pseuds/garyunwinhart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OTP fic prompt: 'On a date'.</p><p>In which Harry discovers a new found love for mini golf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Date Nerves

Harry’s phone vibrated noisily, quickly, against the wooden desk. A text. He glanced over and smiled at the name flashing brightly across the screen; Eggsy.

The message was short, to the point. ‘ _Mini golf? This afternoon?x_ ’

It wasn’t a dreadful idea, he mused, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. It was only really their second official date and Harry had hoped for something somewhat civilised; perhaps a nice dinner, or an evening at the theatre. The last suggestion had, as expected, been met with exaggerated eye-rolls from Eggsy before Harry caved and relinquished planning rights for their next rendezvous. Apparently Eggsy had taken his new responsibility and ran with it.

Their first date was a rather uneventful affair; a couple of drinks at Harry’s local after Merlin told him, in no uncertain terms, that if he didn’t stop pining and do something about his school-boy crush, he’d find himself on a plane to Antarctica with nothing but a toothbrush and a bedtime story. Harry had nervously approached Eggsy who, it turned out, was subjected to a similar chat with good old Merlin and was, thankfully, as equally unenthusiastic about the cold as Harry. So, they spent an evening together, drinking and story-telling and eventually ending up at the chip shop round the corner at 1am, sharing a tray of chips and their largely similar opinions about the exact shade of polish Merlin must use on that conspicuously shiny head of his. (It took exactly four seconds for Merlin to remind Harry of the audio recording function of his glasses the next morning. Harry’s cheeks burned for a little longer.)

Harry smiled thinking back on the evening and decided that he’d love to spend more time with Eggsy, no matter what they did together. He picked up his phone, tapped out a quick reply and sent it.

' _Sounds great. X_ ’

He made a mental note to turn off his glasses.

*****

Harry was late that afternoon, as usual. Eggsy didn’t mind; far too busy planning his outfit, cleaning the smudges off his glasses, and making sure his hair was staying exactly where he’d put it. By the time he closed the front door behind him, shouting a quick goodbye to his mum and sister - both of whom were watching intently from the window - he was feeling rather nervous. Harry looked marvelous, as always, in a pair of dark trousers and a white shirt. Eggsy noted, with particular interest, the lack of tie and the open buttons of his shirt and forced his eyes upwards from the base of Harry’s throat, with great difficulty.

“Y-Ya look nice,” he breathed. His hands unclenched at his sides.

Harry smiled at him, stepped away from the car and opened the passenger door. He beckoned Eggsy forward and thanked him. “You look nice, too,” he said, as Eggsy climbed into the car.As Harry made his way around the other side of the car, Eggsy made himself comfortable on the leather seats and made sure, for the billionth time, that his shoes were clean.

They drove to the course at a leisurely pace, Harry questioning Eggsy about where his inspiration for their plans had come from. Eggsy explained that the course was apparently brand new and, as he hadn’t played in 'fuckin’ years’, he’d decided it was high time he have another go. And, he said with a wink, it couldn’t hurt that he was going to kick Harry’s arse.

Harry smiled. Better than the pub, he thought. Much better.

*****

As it turned out, Eggsy really did kick Harry’s arse. Much to the surprise of both of them, Harry was absolutely dreadful. After it took him six tries to get the ball over a little ramp, he almost threw his club in the direction of the laughing Eggsy and drove off. Still, he thought to himself, it could be worse. He decided instead to focus on his date; the way his hair wasn’t staying put at all, the pure joy in his laughter, the muscles in his arms as he flicked the ball around the course with a surprising grace… He decided that maybe mini golf wasn’t his cup of tea, but that Eggsy definitely was.

The rest of the session was spent in much the same way; Eggsy scoring on or below par for every single hole and Harry abandoning most of them, much to Eggsy’s amusement. The latter didn’t stop laughing the entire way round, his cheeks flushed and his breath coming quickly. Harry decided it was his favourite sound in the world, that laugh, and the sight of Eggsy red and breathless was something he’d very much like to see again. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t concentrate… By the time they reached the last hole, they’d both sobered a little and Harry took it upon himself to volunteer to go first. Eggsy obliged, grinning, and gestured to the course.

"S'all yours, Hart.”

“Cheeky bugger,” Harry muttered, swatting him away. Eggsy didn’t move far and Harry couldn’t help being very aware of it. He lined up his shot carefully, trying desperately and in vain to calculate the speed at which the little windmill was going. It was no use. Eggsy was warm, sturdy, and so very close to him. Harry swallowed once, hard, and hit the ball with a surprising force. He stepped back and watched the ball whip past the windmill, before turning back to Eggsy with raised eyebrows and a slight smirk. Eggsy wasn’t paying attention.

“You’re jokin’,” he muttered, a smile frozen on his face. Harry turned back to the course and saw, with great satisfaction, that his ball had landed straight in the hole. At bloody last.

He laughed, loudly and involuntarily, and turned to face Eggsy, kissing him square on the lips before he could stop himself. It only took a second, Eggsy unresponsive and shocked under his mouth, for him to realise what he’d done. He pulled back as if Eggsy were on fire and muttered stammering apologies, his eyes never leaving the floor.

Eggsy put his fingers to his lips and blinked quickly: once, twice, three times. He moved towards Harry and placed a hand on his forearm; his shirt sleeves had long been pushed up to the elbows and the direct contact was dizzying. Harry began another attempt at an apology, but the look in Eggsy’s eyes shut him up. “…do that again, would ya?” The request came with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip and Harry was powerless. He smiled despite himself and closed the gap between them.

*****

It took a little while for Eggsy to remember that it was technically now his turn and, much to Harry’s amusement, even longer for him to pull away and recover enough to hit the ball.

Eggsy vehemently denied taking eleven tries to get the ball into the hole, but the footage Merlin pulled up the next day showed otherwise. Those _bloody_ glasses.


End file.
